


angry lesbians boo in the crowd

by calcoua



Category: Professional Overwatch RPF
Genre: And get coffee, By that I mean I have never watched overwatch in my life, Dating, Gaming, Gen, I am literally looking back on this like months later., I just based him off what my friend said. and me., I like dnd. so boom. simple., I told you i'd update this when I had time, I'm ace/aro and i've never been on a date and i don't know how they work I'm sorry, Im struggling to write my MHA fics and WOF fics and this., Meet-Cute, Multi, Overwatch - Freeform, Someone saw this on a stream and I am eternally proud of that, Uhh you go to an aquarium, and well it's chinese new year and I do have time, moth :, moth : okay anyway lets go to my room, moth : stares at kid trying to stab someone, moth is into dnd shut up shut up shut up, reader has literally nothing specific about them, references to irl friends. Moth is me., there are children beating the shit out of each other. They are brats and we love it, this is my magnum opus. I'm so mad and elated at the same time.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27113593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calcoua/pseuds/calcoua
Summary: Reader meets up w moth... uhh... you go on a date. There's an aquarium, there's POC characters,, yeah. Also gaming mice. (mouse')? I have never watched overwatch in my life. I just know mercy from that one tiktok meme. Also watched the wind dragon animation and... cool but like. what was happening?You can read this. You won't be emotionally or physically scarred. Replace y/n with something like "satan" to really spice this fic up. No sex. I'm emotinally drained and aroace does it look like I know what that shit is?
Relationships: Moth | Grant Espe/sinatraa | Jay Won & reader, Moth/Reader, moth | Grant Espe/sinatraa | Jay Won
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Ah, we create meaning.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MarigoldFlowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarigoldFlowers/gifts).



“Coral reef fishes have a massive variety of beautiful colors, contrasting open water fishes who are usually countershaded with silvers and blues,” he reads out loud. “The patterns have different functions, sometimes they camouflage the dish when against the right background, sometimes for mates, and sometimes to warn predators against eating them because of their poisonous spines or flesh.” 

He runs his hand over the metal plate, fingers leaving fry grease in the carefully carved grooves. The flickering reflection of water darkens as a particularly large grouper swims above the glass tunnel, casting a shadow that would make kindergarten kids on a field trip gasp in barely contained surprise. 

(You admit it’s pretty, as the light bouncing off its red and blue-green scales to form a sort of warm-colored rainbow. )

You grin, and point at it. “You know, I bet that one’s name is Gary.” 

Moth turns away from the infographic. “Why?” He asks, turning to look at the grouper. The grouper doesn’t look back, but instead keeps on swimming, like the ignorant bastard it is. “It doesn’t really seem like a Gary to me, maybe a Daniel.”

You smile. “I had a teacher back in middle school named Gary, he was always leaning over kids to look at their papers. He was really nice, but kind of harsh with his grading. I liked him.” 

Moth lets out a low laugh. “Ha!” He snickers. “You know, I was just going to go with Daniel because it was the first thing that popped into my mind. Your idea seems so much better-I agree. They’re definitely a Gary.”

(Moth ignores the urge to name the fish after a certain dink overwatch player that keeps on stealing his kills. It would be cruel to the fish.) 

You continue on down the Tunnel, reading the little infographics on the fish in their habitats. You and Moth stare in wonder at the silvery blacktip sharks that glide across the sandy floor like socks on hardwood, and laugh humorously at the heatherfish that scatter in perfect patterns as an above-average sized parrotfish swims through.

(It’s a glorious moment to be in, everything tinted in a calm blue glow. His hair glows like a cluster of stars under the rippling water.)  
(It’s calming, like reading fanfiction in bed on a rainy day.)  
_(It feels like the physical feeling of petrichor.)_

———

The Aquarium has an underwater cafe- fitting for such a lavishly decked out place.

It’s a beautiful underwater pavilion, sheltered by massive plexiglass walls that form a dome like the surface of a baguette.

(You think about your friend from high school — yeah. He’d definitely love this place, if only for its mildly bread shaped qualities.)  
_(And once the amazement wears away, he’d complain about how it looked nothing like a baguette, and more like some kind of British loaf, and he’d be back to nerding out about bread.)_

The wooden floor is a dark mahogany-oak combination, and plants and vines are placed around the sides of the room. A white and tan counter is placed on the other side, manned by two people who seem incredibly bored. It is fitting though-the area is remarkably empty, save for an abundance of warm fairy lights draped over literally everything. Black ravens decorate the ceiling, circling on pulleys like ornate vultures. White and tan seats with gold accents surround tables with vases of green leaves.

A few giant orange jellyfish puff their way past the right wall, their bioluminescent glow combining with the light filtering through the surface of the water forming a stunning light source. An Angelfish school swims their way past not soon after, being careful to avoid the stinging tendrils of the jellyfish. 

_“Wow,”_ Moth whispers. “This is amazing.” He looks around the room, eyes wide. 

You grin, barely concealing your own amazement. “I know, right? My friend recommended this place, and it’s my first time here. It’s so cool, I love it already.” You grab his hand and pull him towards the floating cafe at the other end of the room.

 _(Your heart skips a beat as he goes along willingly, and it skips another as you glance at the grin on his face.)_  
(The rays do a flip, too bad you’re too busy staring at some guy to notice.)

———

You glance at the menu board behind the counter with neat chalk handwriting, and frown in exactly the way a broke college student would when they visit Disneyland for the first time after barely being able to afford the entrance ticket. “Aw, man, it’s all really expensive,” You mutter, glancing at your bare wallet with the few dollars you were saving for groceries. “God, I hate college tuition prices. Capitalist bullshirt.” 

(Your previous girlfriend being an absolute bench was something you didn’t mention. What kind of ashole stole money from a broke as shirt student? Petty people, that’s who. Unfortunate your ex-girlfriend was exactly that. )

The Barista behind the counter looks almost apologetic, face crinkling around their hijab, hands gesturing apologetically. “Ma’am, I’m really sorry, but this place is really expensive. I’ve got a few fish at home and their equipment costs a bloody fortune-you'd understand how this place would be costly as all hell. They’re actually slider turtles, but there are some fish in their tank-”

A blonde girl comes up behind them, looking annoyed. “Alex, you can’t chat up every customer that complains about the prices.” Her hands are wet, and she wears a green apron pinned through with multiple pins, as well as a name tag that says “Corey” in metallic gold. She was tan, and looked too young for the dark eyebags that haunted the underside of her eyes. “Can I get you anything? Our cheapest thing here is the earl grey tea, imported from Britain, and our most expensive item is the four gallon frappe.” She pauses. “Apparently, there’s a deal here, which states that if you can finish the four gallon frappe in less than four minutes you can leave free of charge. I wouldn’t count on it though, we’ve already had to call the hospital twice.” 

Alex smiled, popping back up from where they were squatting down behind the counter. “Yeah, and Yeesh, Ambulances are expensive as shirt.” They made a face, eyes widening and cheeks puffing up. “We should really remove that item before we get sued.”

(“We really need to get rid of it, it’s only years before someone sues us because their kid died of a brain freeze.”)  
(“Alex, people can’t die from a brain freeze.”)  
(“Sure they can. I’m googling it right now.”)

Moth smiles at you with the power of the sun, ignoring Alex and Corey argue about the four gallon frappe.

_(Not our sun, mind you. Maybe a smaller one, one that didn’t immediately incinerate everything that came close to it.)_

He pulls your hovering arm down, grip gentle but firm, like steak cooked to perfection by Gordon Ramsey. “It’s allright, I’ll pay.” He moves to the front as you splutter out a thank you, your cheeks flushing. He rummages around the endless depth that is the pocket in a man’s shorts, and pulls out a sleek black wallet with an enamel overwatch pin on it. “How much is it for two boba teas? Un-iced, of course.” 

Corey ducks down, and runs her hands across the handout menu before finding her target. “It’s twelve dollars iced, and fourteen without. Can I get your names?” She does it smoothly, with the air of someone who’s worked the same job for month. 

Moth hands over his credit card, and glances up to look at the fish swimming across the ceiling. “Moth and y/n, please and thank you.” 

(The fish don’t know much about overwatch, or fame, but the guy they’re swimming over seems important. Maybe it’s because they’re the only one that’s entered and bought something.)

Suddenly, the blonde Barista looks up. “Wait, Moth? The overwatch streamer?” She frantically pulls out a notepad from her sun-bleached jeans. “Can I get your signature? My daughter loves your streams.” 

_You frown, and before you can think, you blurt out, “Your daughter? You can’t be older than twenty-three.”_

(You cringe internally. Whoops.)

Corey glares. “Mistakes happen.” She grinds out, in a voice that didn’t invite further conversation. “Thanks.” She said to Moth.

( _shirt._ Mentally, you cursed god for letting you exist, and begged Satan to take you down to hell.)  
(A second passed. Nothing happened. How inconsiderate of them.)

“Sorry!” You sweat out, unsure of what else to say. _Honestly, what could you say? Sorry for implying that you got pregnant in high school?_

Moth took the pen, and quickly signed, exchanging the slip of paper and pen for two boba teas handed by Alex. 

Alex smiled, and waved, handing the paper to Corey. “bye!” 

You and Moth wave back to both of them, before stepping out.

———

“Huh.” You say, glancing at the giant sign with a sloppily painted on ‘What lurks in the deep.’ 

Moth chuckles, laying a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, y/n, can’t be that scary. They’re just fish. Really, really weird fish that god probably hated and made by accident, but still fish.” His hand is warm, and counteracts the blasts of chilly air that the entrance puffs out on cue. 

You sip your Boba, your hand starting to sting as the cold seeps through the tissue. “Ah!” You mutter, and toss it to your other hand. “Aw, shirt. I hate how I’m not immune to the cold.” 

Moth smiles in the endearing way only an idol can through eye contact. He closes his arms around your shoulders, and plucks the cup of boba from your fingers. “I’ve got you, man.” He says, and walks forward into the entrance. 

(The doors puff out another blast of cold air, like the bloody dinks they are. You really wish they would piss off.)

You follow. 

——————

Moth smiles in the endearing way only an idol can through eye contact. He closes his arms around your shoulders, and plucks the cup of boba from your fingers. “I’ve got you, man.” He says, and walks forward into the entrance. 

(The doors puff out another blast of cold air, like the bloody dinks they are. You really wish they would piss off.)

You follow. 

——————

The tanks are beautiful. Quaint, but well decorated. Palm sized jellyfish glow all colors in the water, and eels with glowing spots dart their way through caves and caverns like falcons through the air. Fish flash in blues and yellows in alarm, before fading into the background. Diagrams with gulper eels and angler fish line the wall, colors clean and vibrant- not to mention glow in the dark. 

There’s another tunnel, this one drenched in inky darkness known as an absence of light. Its lit by a gentle red and blue at the bend, which kinks around after six meters. 

Moth takes your hand and starts forward, and the darkness of the tunnel lights up as hundreds of small fish swim away from your movement. The fish glow in golds, reds, blues, and greens, forming a horrible rainbow that looks like a child’s vomit after consuming three packs of skittles as well as a few bottles of dye. 

(It’s amazing. Bloody hell, it’s amazing. The child drinking dye, of course, not the fish. Duh. )

Your boba is suddenly shoved back into your hand, and you glance back at moth to see he’s hurriedly taking out his phone to snap a picture. “This is amazing,” he nods, before tucking it away and grabbing a hold of your hand. “Into the light?”

You chuckle, face bathed in a reddish-brown that has nothing to do with the glow of the fish. “Yeah, but not that one. It’s a bit too early.” 

(You ignored thinking about what you were so close to doing yesterday.)

——————

The Aquarium was lovely. It was the same good as punting an annoying child across a football field with fascinating strength.  
—————

The crisp air of earth greets you, the sky the blue of laundry detergent, the clouds like the cotton buds you used to mop up the blood you spilled on the floor after scratching at a mosquito bite a little too hard.

Moth takes your hand, and a girl looks on jealously as she walks past. “You know, we still have some free time, want to come back to the hotel?” His hand is warm, as it usually is. 

_(He’s like a walking space heater, you think.)_

“Sure.” You say. _Can’t hurt._

———————

The hotel is a surprisingly well-kept Holiday inn. It’s a beautiful brown color, with speckled tiles and gold-colored accents in the form of metal bars. The receptionists are busy running through room reservations, and the gentle mumbling of adults is cut through with the excited yelling of kids absolutely beating the shirt out of each other both physically and in games. 

_(“No, Sam, stop-“ One mom yells, dragging a four year old child with a knitting needle in their hand away from another boy. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry-“)_

Moth gently presses the up button, and you wander off to admire the flowers that decorate the middle of the waiting room. They’re pretty, you note, taking in the orchids and roses placed in such a way to complement each other’s colors. A ding signals the elevator’s arrival, and Moth follows you in.

He whips out a card and presses down until a green light flickers, and searches a while before picking the twenty-seventh floor. “We’re on the right,” He says. “It’s the one door with a ton of scratches on it.”

You pause, and before moth can go on, you ask why. “Why the scratches? Shouldn’t they have, you know, fixed that by now?”

Moth looks delighted in exactly the way someone shouldn’t be.

( _one_ , the elevator says, in a clean voice.)

“okay, so, you see, this room is apparently haunted. Some lady died in it when she was what, fifty-four? Yeah. She apparently now just haunts the room for fun. People feel themselves choking before being released, and also the shower just turns on and off randomly. “ He pauses, then snaps his fingers. “Oh! Also, some seven year old kid said he could see her, which is ridiculous. You know what’s even more ridiculous? His adopted father dragged him there just for that.” 

“For fun?” You frown. “So, is she always there, or is it a, in the mood to scare some people thing? I’m pretty sure choking someone isn’t a just for fun thing. The shower could just be some pipe issues. Why would you even want to stay somewhere with ghosts?”

_(fifteen, the elevator says crisply.)_

“Come on, y/n. Have a little fun, live a little. So what if it’s totally untrue? The thrill is the fun part! And besides, if there really is a ghost, might as well give them a show.”

(seventeen.)

Your face flushes crimson. “You-?”

Moth’s face also flushes crimson, his pale complexion making him all the more red. “No- no that’s not what I meant. I mean, like an overwatch game. Wait, can ghosts phase through walls?”

You nod, struggling to keep a straight face. “Probably, yeah.”

“Oh, then- oh, wow. Hey, do you ever think about if ghosts can watch you, you know, take a piss or shower? Man, that’s so weird. They’re invisible, aren’t they? Oh, hell, what if there’s one in this elevator with us?”

(There wasn’t one at the moment, but if there actually was one, their name would be Anorak and they would take such offense at that their whispy brown body would flicker in annoyance. They knew what boundaries were. )

_(Twenty three.)_

“That’s such a weird thing to think about,” You laugh. “But you’re totally right, wow.”

The awkwardness of silence soon fades to a content peace. Your reflection in the mirrored wall of the elevator shudders as wind passes through your hair. 

(A ding shatters the silence.)

_Twenty seven._

————————

“Okay, so, I have this mouse that I recently got- Sydney has amazing game stores.” Moth looks delighted as he points at a sleek green and black mouse with silver highlights. “It’s simply lovely.” He then darts over to his laptop, which he opens. As the iTunes screen for the glass animals pops up, he switches to another page and frantically starts typing into google.

You peer over his shoulder, curious. “What’re you doing?” 

He grins, glancing at the loading bar every few seconds. “I ordered this really, really pretty limited mouse from someone who does customs- It’s kind of based off Mercy, I guess. You know, from overwatch? But instead of white, it’s black and orange. Like your artwork. It’s really nice.”

The page loads, and he clicks on an email. The email contains a 3D preview of what the mouse will look like, and you stifle a gasp. He’s not wrong, it is really rather pretty. It’s a sleek teardrop shape, with gold-orange highlights and matte black. “Wow,” You whisper. “Wait, oh my god!”

“huh?” He glances at you. “What’s wrong?”

“No, not that. I ordered one off of them a few months ago- it’s on my phone somewhere- ah. Here it is.” You show him a purple, blue, and pink mouse, with small poking-out bits that made It look like it was glitching. “It’s called the disaster bi- I designed it.”

Moth squints at it, and nods. “It looks amazing.” Suddenly, moth closes his laptop and pulls out a stack of books. 

He drops the stack of books on the table, and you can see the words _Monster Manual_ on the cover. “Ever tried dnd?”


	2. Crack interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a mysterious man in the corridor aggressively pounding the machines like there's no tomorrow.

There’s a man dressed in all black aggressively pressing the ‘ice’ button on the ice dispenser in the corridor. He’s furiously mashing the button, seemingly taking huge amounts of glee in the way the ice falls and creates a slowly enlarging pile. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Hell yeah, capitalism. C’mon, you’ve got more in there.” He slaps the vending machine like a man desperately needing the Heimlich. The machine shudders and pitifully spits out a few more mishappen cubes of ice.

The floor’s wet. There’s a pile of ice on the floor.

The man looks up, dark, circular glasses covering his eyes. He checks his watch - ( _apple, of course- the more expensive, the better-)_ and shrugs. He continues to vigorously pound the machine. Suddenly, the dispenser stops- there's about a meter of ice on the floor. There's about a meter of gross hotel ice on the floor. It smells weird. _Why does it smell weird?_ The man kicks the pile over, before snapping his fingers with a loud phf noise. The machine starts back up, and begins to spew out a fresh new wave of ice like new. The man hums pleasantly, before straightening up and deciding that enough was enough. 

He struts off.

————————————————

You open the door, and the sweet scent of melted hotel ice immediately assaults you like a man from a humid country would assault a 300 pound 16 foot python on family property. You glance down. Your forking foot is wet. It’s wet with hotel ice water. The super sexy sneakers from the Adidas 2019 special sale that you put on for this special day are ruined. 

You look up in mild horror, and Moth comes up to the door to look around too.

There’s a pile of ice on the hotel carpet. The floor is soaked.

Moth looks down at you, and you look back at him. 

_What the fork?_

**Author's Note:**

> Moth is what I want him to be. I don't know anything about him. If I say moth is into dnd, he is. If I say moth likes Good Omens, he does. If I make Moth recommend songs that I like and TV shows that I like, fuck you, I can. I'm going to make Moth eat a forking stapler Jason grace style just because I can.
> 
> This fic was a birthday gift for my irl friend, Jessica, who kins Moth. or stans. I don't know my way around these bargain mart Japanese honorifics. She draws way too much Moth fanart but I really can't say anything because my favorite characters are emotionally scarred men that are crusty in one way or another. It's the principle of the thing.


End file.
